


Back at the Beginning With You

by Dolimir



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Regression, Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-08
Updated: 2011-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-20 05:50:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolimir/pseuds/Dolimir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The obligatory age regression snippet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back at the Beginning With You

Sam wearily shouldered his book bag as his cell phone vibrated against his hip. Palming it, he looked down at the display and found a text message from Jess.

 **Home. 911.**

Feeling as if an icy band had suddenly clenched around his heart, Sam sprinted the two blocks home. One of the things Sam loved about his girlfriend was that she wasn't prone to panic. She was solid and dependable, not the drama queen his Econ study partner, Richard, had saddled himself with. If Jesse was sending an S.O.S., then something was seriously wrong.

For the first time in over a year, he wished he hadn't stopped carrying his favorite knife.

Reaching the bottom of the wooden staircase leading up to the back door of their apartment, Sam stopped and took a deep breath and tried to view his familiar environment with fresh eyes. Growing up, his father had told him over and over again not to race into an unknown situation. Sam was fully prepared to ignore that advice if it meant saving Jesse, but everything appeared normal. He quietly started up the stairs, taking them three at a time. It wasn't until he reached their landing that he heard Jesse's desperate voice.

"Please! Stop!"

The hunter in him, the entity he tried so hard to deny, reared its head and roared in angry response. Dropping his book bag, he slammed the door open and leaped into the apartment.

"Jesse!"

Racing through the kitchen, he found her braced against the door leading to the building's hallway.

"Sam! Thank god!"

He realized instantly that she hadn't yet been physically injured, but refused to drop his guard until he knew she was totally safe. Turning ninety degrees, he gave his full attention on the intruder; only to realize it was considerably shorter than he was. His first thought was imp or gargoyle, but as he focused he found himself facing a boy who couldn't be any older than twelve.

Huge green eyes peered up at him from a freckled face. "Jesus, Sammy. When Dad said you had grown up, he didn't say you had turned into a fricken giant."

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

"Dean?" Sam blinked several times, trying to reconcile how his brother looked the last time he saw him versus his memory of how his brother looked when they were both much younger. "Dean?"

"Take a picture, Sammy." While the smile was cocky, the attitude he was trying to project didn't quite reach his eyes.

Sam turned toward Jesse, still blinking, wondering if she could shed any light on the situation.

"A man who claimed to be your father dropped him off ten minutes ago. He said he needed you to watch him for a little bit while he fixed things." Jesse took a deep breath and finally allowed herself to relax against the door. "He," and she pointed at Dean, "wasn't happy about being left behind. I wasn't sure I could keep him here, which is why I texted you."

Sam gave her a small smile and nodded, letting her know she had done the right thing.

"I'll…I'll just get some cookies and milk for you guys. You'd like that, right? Dean?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders indifferently. Jesse moved toward the kitchen, letting her fingers trail over Sam's back as she passed, letting him know that she was close if he needed any help. Sam watched her until she disappeared, then turned toward his brother and dropped to his knees so that they were eye level.

"What happened?"

"Well, obviously, a job went wrong."

"So you're what? A twenty-five year old stuck in a twelve year old's body?"

Dean started to speak, but stopped himself, choosing to nod instead. If Sam had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have seen the lie, but he wasn’t, so he did.

"No, you're not. You're really just twelve, aren't you?"

Dean clenched his jaw but didn't say anything.

Sam dropped his head and closed his eyes for a moment as he tried to rein in his anger. "Jesus, how could he just leave you here like this?"

Dean's jaw jutted out. "I don't need you to take care of me, Sammy."

"You don’t think so?"

"I was changing your diapers and wiping your ass, while you were still drooling all over yourself. I think I can manage on my own just fine, fuck you very much."

Sam blinked, trying to remember if Dean had been this cocky when he had been twelve the first time around. "Dad would tan your hide if he heard you cuss like that."

The tips of Dean's ears reddened, but his face remained stubborn. "No, he wouldn't. He's never raised a hand to me."

It was on the tip of Sam's tongue to remind his brother of the times his father had knocked Dean down, but that had happened when Sam was seventeen and Dean had interposed himself between Sam and his father while they were arguing. It had only occurred twice, and each time it happened, the fighting had stopped and everyone had gone to their separate corners.

"Be that as it may, I would prefer you not to use such language in my home. Jesse doesn't need to be subjected to it. Okay?" Sam had no guilt about using Jesse as a trump card. While Dean wouldn't care about cussing in front of Sam; hell, he had taught Sam how to cuss, he wouldn't cuss in front of someone he considered a lady.

The redness of Dean's ears grew to encompass his face as he nodded in compliance. "She sort of reminds me of mom," he said finally. Sam knew it was as close to an apology as he was going to get.

"Because she has blonde hair?"

"And because she's pretty. And stubborn."

"Mom was stubborn?" Sam couldn't stop himself from asking.

"She was married to Dad, Brainiac." The duh was implicitly implied.

Sam grinned, realizing how much he missed his brother. "Why don't we go into the kitchen and get some cookies while we figure this out?" He stood and turned toward the kitchen, stopping only when he realized he wasn't being followed.

"No, Sam. I have to find Dad."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"He's out there by himself, with no one watching his back. I need to find him."

"I think he'll be okay, Dean. He's been hunting on his own for a long time now."

"No, he hasn't. He's had me."

Sam felt a tad of irritation. "You're not exactly in a position to really back him up now, are you?"

Dean reacted like he had been slapped. "I've been helping him for years."

Biting his lip, Sam forced himself to take a breath. It was true, Dean had occasionally accompanied their father on a hunt when he was younger and there had been someone else to watch Sam.

"But he left you with me this time."

"But you don't want me," Dean whispered.

"Dean that's not--"

"It is!” he shouted. “You left me. You left us. Dad told me. You wanted normal and there's nothing normal about us."

"Maybe not,” Sam said quietly, “but I'm not going to abandon you now that you’re here."

Dean dropped his chin to his chest. "Why not? Dad did."

"I'm not Dad." The anguish on his brother's face was killing him an inch at a time.

"You're just like him."

"I'm nothing like him."

"I may be twelve years old, but I'm not stupid." Dean crossed his arms over his chest. "You have your normal life now. The last thing you want is to be saddled with me. I’m just a reminder of the life you left behind.”

"Look, Dad was the one who said--"

Dean angrily slashed the air before him with his hand, cutting off Sam's explanation. Without another word, he marched to the front door. When his brother's intent finally penetrated the anger coloring his thoughts, Sam closed the distance between them and slammed the door shut before Dean could get it fully open.

"Let me go, Sam."

Sam was surprised by how serious Dean's tone was, and finally understood the confidence it had taken Dean to keep most adults from bothering them as kids. But despite being impressed with his brother’s tone, Sam made no effort to comply with Dean's demand. "You're not going anywhere, squirt."

"I mean it, Sammy. I don't want to hurt you, but I will."

The joke Sam was going to make never reached his lips. Instead he found himself dodging Dean's kick to his knee, a move that no doubt would have taken him down if he hadn't have been halfway expecting it. Dean countered it was a shot to the groin, which Sam also barely avoided.

Knowing he couldn’t risk a counter-shot that might hurt his brother, but realizing that Dean might eventually connect and do enough temporary damage to escape, Sam decided to take control of the situation by forcing Dean into the door, face first, then wrapped his arms around the squirming boy and lifted him off the ground.

"Get off me, Sam. I mean it. Gerroff me!"

"It's okay, Dean. Everything's going to be okay."

"No, it's not. It's not! Let go, Sam. He's not going to come back. I know it. I know it! Please, Sammy. Please let me go."

Sam wanted to reassure his brother that his father would be back for him, but he had a sinking suspicion that if John couldn’t find a cure that he would leave Dean exactly where he was. "I can’t, Dean. You need to stay with me. Please just stay with me.” He spoke the words softly into his brother's ear, even as he gritted his teeth against the impact of flailing arms and legs.

"No. No. Let me go, Sammy. He won’t come back. You know he won’t. He won’t come back." A sob tore through Dean's throat and Sam felt tears well up in his own eyes. Dean continued to struggle, but Sam's grip on him was firm. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Fifteen.

Finally, the struggling body in his arms went limp. Sam turned Dean’s body so that the boy was cuddled against his chest. Dean stifled a sob, his voice barely audible. "Why does everyone leave me, Sam? Why doesn't anyone want me?"

Pressing a kiss to the boy's forehead, Sam closed his eyes and tried to find his voice. "I want you, Dean. I do. Trust me. I do."

Sam gently laid Dean on the couch and removed his shoes and jeans. He then pulled Jesse’s afghan off the back and tucked it around his brother. Dean might be willing to go outside without his shoes, but there was no way he'd venture outside without his pants. When he was sure his brother was asleep, he moved into the kitchen, folded the shoes within the jeans and placed them in the cabinet over the refrigerator.

He turned to find Jesse’s eyes burning with curiosity, but she remained silent.

"I think we need to talk."

Jesse nodded, but didn’t move. "I thought Dean was your older brother."

"That's what we need to talk about." He waved at the table and she nodded, grabbing two cups of coffee off the counter before she sat down.

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

After all was said and explained, Sam had to admit she accepted his family history a lot better than he had any right to dream. She wasn't happy that he had lied to her about his past, but seemed to understand his reasons.

Taking his right hand and holding it within both of hers, she looked into his eyes. "From this moment forward, there will be nothing but the truth between us, Sam."

Sam nodded, still not quite absorbing the fact that she wasn't packing her bags.

"I mean it, Sam. No white lies. No fibs. No stretching of the truth. From now on, what you know, I know and vice versa."

"Of course."

"Swear it, Sam."

Raising their clutched hands to his lips, he kissed each of her hands on the knuckles. "On my heart and my love for you, I swear that there will only be truth between us from now on."

Jesse studied his face for a moment, then nodded.

Sam leaned in and gave her a tender kiss. "How did I get lucky enough to have you in my life?"

"I don't know about luck. I think I just have low expectations." While her delivery was deadpan, her eyes twinkled with laughter.

"Fair enough." He chuckled and kissed her again.

"What are we going to do about Dean?"

"I'm not sure. I know Dad's not going to just leave him in his current state. If there’s a way to reverse it, he’ll find it."

"How long do you think it’ll take him to find a cure?"

"Hopefully, not to long. I have no idea how to take care of a twelve year old."

"Well, luckily the semester is over and your seminar is over on Friday. Right?"

"Yes."

"He can stay with me while you're in class and we'll see if we can play around with our work schedules. We can do this."

"What do you mean we? You're supposed to fly home next week."

"Sam, I'm not going to leave you to deal with this on your own."

"But--"

"Get real."

"I--"

"Ah. Ah."

Sam dropped his head in relief, then raised it and gave her a weak smile at her. "I don't deserve you."

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far. But boy, oh boy, are you going to owe me!"

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

Sam rubbed his forehead as he listened to his phone attempt to connect with his father’s cell. He was halfway convinced the call would rollover into voicemail and so was startled when John’s answered after the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

For a moment, he found himself unable to cross the chasm that had widened between them. A part of him resented being forced to be the one to break their silence, but he also knew that his father could and would continue their pattern despite their current situation.

“There is no cure, is there? No magical remedy? No way to turn him back?”

“Hello to you to, Sam.”

Sam ignored his father’s sarcasm. “So why leave him here?”

“I can’t take him--”

“You can. Hell, you did for years.”

“That life is behind us now, has been for four years. I no longer have a permanent address, Sam. We’re constantly on the road.”

“But you--”

“No, Sam. I can’t.”

“But--”

“I think I’ve found its trail.”

“Trail? You mean--”

“Yes.”

“You’re going after it.”

“Not yet, but soon. Very soon. So you see, I can’t…I won’t put Dean in that kind of danger.”

“So? What? You just drop him off with me?” Sam tried, unsuccessfully, to curb his anger.

“There’s no one else, Sam.”

“You can’t just--”

“Would putting him in foster care been any better? Because that’s the only other alternative.”

All the air in Sam’s lungs simply vanished. “You wouldn’t.”

“I’m close, Sam. Closer than I’ve been in nearly twenty years. I’m not letting this son of a bitch get away from me again. I owe that much to your mother.”

“But Dean needs you.”

“I know.” The words were almost inaudible.

“You’ve always been his entire world.”

“Not his entire world.” The words were spoken a little louder, and Sam knew his father had found his footing again. “He may have needed me, but you were the one who always gave him purpose.”

“Because he was older. Because I needed him. But now…it won’t work now, Dad.”

John remained silent.

“You’ve already ruined one of his childhoods. You can’t just--”

“I’ve already raised Dean once, Sam.”

Anger made Sam articulate and he found himself unable to form a coherent sentence.

“I’ll send money when I can.”

“He’s never going to understand,” Sam managed to finally whisper.

John was silent for a moment. When he finally spoke, it sounded as if the words were being cut out of him. “I know.”

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

Sam knelt beside the couch and gently ran his fingers through Dean’s hair, taking the time to truly study his brother. Dean had always been a study in motion. It seemed like the only times Dean was ever still was when he was asleep or injured. Growing up, he had rarely been able to stay up later than Dean and he would never have wished Dean injured in order to get him to slow down.

In a world of chaos, Dean had been his touchstone. The one who made sure he was safe, fed, and clothed. He was the one who answered the everyday questions, as well as the supernatural ones. He was the one who had made John’s drills tolerable and had made sure Sam kept up with his studies, even when they were between schools.

While college had absolutely been the right thing for Sam to do, he regretted their separation, missed his brother with an ache that never seemed to be too far beneath the surface.

It was as if fate had somehow managed to give him a second chance to know his brother. While life would no doubt be incredibly difficult, more complicated than was ideal for going on to law school, Sam found he wanted this chance to give back to his brother. Dean had always tried so hard to make life normal for Sam when they managed to put roots down for more than a few days, Sam could do no less.

No, the next few years weren’t going to be easy, but they were certainly going to be interesting.


End file.
